All World
Gayatri Pariwar

Reflections on the Pilgrimage - 2

Bridges always offered protection from the elements, as well as dilapidated barns and empty basements of abandoned homes. Culverts and large pipes often served as lodging. But one of my favorite places to sleep is a large haystack piled in an accessible field on a clear night. The stars are my blanket.

Cemeteries are also wonderful places to sleep for the night. They are quiet, the grass is always neatly trimmed, and nobody ever bothers you there. No, there is no intrusion upon the departed spirits. I wish them peace; they understand. But a picnic table at a nearby road stop, a gathering of pine needles in a nearby bush, or the cushion of a blossoming wheat field would serve as well.

One morning, when I was sleeping in a Kansas wheat field, I was awakened to a very loud noise. I looked up only to see this huge reaper bearing down on me. I immediately rolled over several times to get out of the way of its swirling blades. I feel a complete protection on my pilgrimage. God is my shield. There are no accidents in the Divine Plan nor does God leave us unattended. No one walks so safely as those who walk humbly and harmlessly with great love and great faith. I remember a time of the year when it got very cold at night. It went below freezing, but then it warmed up a little in the daytime, so the days were fairly pleasant. It was in the fall, and there were dry leaves on the ground. I was in the middle of the woods and there wasn’t a town for miles around. It was sunset and it was a Sunday. Someone had read a thick Sunday newspaper and tossed it beside the road—like they shouldn’t, but they do. I picked it up and walked off the road and found a thick evergreen tree. Underneath it was a little depression where some leaves had blown.

I pushed a lot of leaves into that depression. Then I put some paper down and placed the rest of the paper over me. When I woke in the morning there was a thick white frost over everything, but the evergreen tree had kept it off of me, and I was snug and warm in my nest of leaves and paper. That’s just a tip in case you get caught out some night. Most people interested in vacations are those who are doing things they are not called to do, which they want to get away from for a while. I couldn’t imagine feeling the need of a vacation from my pilgrimage. How good it is to travel south in the fall of the year, experiencing the tranquil beauty of the harvest time — but staying ahead of the frost; experiencing the brilliant beauty of the autumn leaves — but traveling on before they are swept from the trees. How good it is to travel north with the spring, and to enjoy the spring flowers for several months instead of several weeks? I have had both these wonderful experiences in the middle of the country. During a 1,000 mile walk through New England (which began in Greenwich, Connecticut and ended in Burlington, Vermont) I zigzagged a lot to walk through not only the large towns but also the smaller towns to which I had been invited. I started among the apple blossoms — I walked among them when they were pink buds, and when their falling petals were as white as falling snow. I ended among the ripened apples, which supplied me with some tasty meals.

In between I feasted on luscious wild strawberries and blackberries and blueberries. Throughout the country I saw much superhighway construction, and I noticed that these super-roads tended to run in the valleys, tunneling through the mountains and sometimes under the rivers. I’m glad that on my pilgrimage I usually followed the old roads that climbed the mountains. What wonderful vistas there were to reward those who attained the summit: sometimes views of towns or roads where I had walked or would walk, sometimes views of valleys covered with fields and orchards. I know that this is an age of efficiency and that superhighways are much more efficient, but I hope there will always be some scenic roads, too; some roads that climb the mountains. People sometimes ask me how I spend holidays — especially Christmas. I have spent many of them walking. Many people go for a drive on a holiday, so it is a good time to contact people. I remember one Christmas Eve when I slept out under the stars. One planet was so bright that just a little imagination could transform it into the star of Bethlehem. The next day, at a temperature of 80 ºF, I walked into New Orleans to find poinsettias blooming abundantly for Christmas — and to find some fine, new friends.

I spent one Christmas in Fort Worth, Texas, where the towers and the tall buildings were outlined with colored lights, presenting an unforgettable picture as I walked into the city. That day I was given the welcome present of enough time to catch up with my mail.

People sometimes ask me if I do not feel lonely on holidays. How can I feel lonely when I live in the constant awareness of God’s presence? I love and I enjoy being with people, but when I am alone I enjoy being alone with God. Most of the time in the early years I was offered food and hospitality by people I did not even know. I accept everything as an offering sent from the hand of God. I am equally thankful for the stale bread I received at a migrant worker’s home as the sumptuous meal presented to me by a lady friend in the main dining room at the Waldorf Astoria Hotel. You know, after you have fully surrendered your life to God’s will — if it is your calling to go out on faith — you will discover that even the food and shelter you need come to you very easily. Everything, even material things are given. And some amazing things are given that still surprise even me.

I first got to Alaska and Hawaii through a wonderful gift from a wonderful friend. Then some of my friends asked me to consider leading tours there, so I led one to Alaska the summer of 1979 and one to Hawaii the summer of 1980. I arranged the tours to be an educational and inspirational experience for all who participated. We lived simply and traveled light. I was not idle while in our two newest states. Besides showing my friends around, I did a lot of speaking to groups and over the air. Some of those friends wanted to get an idea of what my pilgrimage life is like, and I think they did. It was a joy to share these inspiring places with them. I’ll tell you another thing that happened: I was figuring out my schedule for North and South Dakota and I knew that in North Dakota I would have to interrupt my schedule to lead the tour in Hawaii. I knew it would be at Bismarck and I knew also that it would take me about a week to hitchhike back from Los Angeles, and I thought, “Oh, a week out of the North Dakota schedule and a week out of the South Dakota schedule. I could really use those two weeks in North and South Dakota.” About the time I was thinking these thoughts, someone wrote and offered me air fare to and from Bismarck. It seemed almost like a miracle that it came. And of course this was something that I needed. I do not take anything I do not need, but I did need the time in North and South Dakota.

This was a wonderful gift, which I accepted, and for which I shall be eternally grateful. So even the material things are provided. I explained to a reporter one time that I just talk to people and after a time they ask me if I want to eat. He pointed out that he had talked to people for months, even years, and they hadn’t offered him even a sandwich. I told him, “But you’re not a peace pilgrim!”

[Reproduced with glad consent of the publishers – Friends of Peace Pilgrim] Once